Prison Of Time

Most of us live, focused on time;
it gives us our sense of direction;
tho it’s only, a function of a mind,
it still affords some protection.

The mind, always, a ticking clock;
maintains its ability to confound;
for there is within, no eternal lock;
the mind can distort and astound.

Consciousness was the original creation;
nothing physical existed, to be found;
man’s banishment required a new situation;
a physical world of time, sight, and sound.

For when we awaken from our dreams;
thoughts become a haze; as tho drugged;
time, that has passed; is not as it seems;
like the mind’s clock was unplugged.

In sleep, we’ve entered a different realm;
whether, due to death, or slumber;
where, God, not time, maintains the helm;
and, no dangers lurk, to encumber.

It’s a realm where only a mind has traveled;
all things physical, must remain behind;
the physical, created, when light unraveled;
once the Master had been maligned.

Mankind was banished to a physical place;
limited time, was it’s physical boundry;
replacing all evil, with the Master’s grace;
and the Love of God was its foundry.